At His Side
by Scifiroots
Summary: After the holidays, Bruce realizes the toll the past year has taken on his friend. preBruceJohnny.


At His Side

By Clarity Scifiroots  
Disclaimers apply.  
**Fandom**: The Dead Zone**Characters**: Johnny, Bruce, Sarah; Johnny/Bruce  
**Spoilers**: through season 4, written without knowledge of newest season 5. Most clearly mentioned – "Saved" and "Zion"  
**Rating**: General  
**Summary**: After the holidays, Bruce realizes the toll the past year has taken on his friend.  
Nineteenth (omg!) day of June!fic for eldritchhobbit's hurt request and kneazles' unwell one  
_Edited July 20, 2006_

------

Bottles of Extra Strength Tylenol and Ibuprofen lay in the otherwise empty trash can when Bruce went to empty a dustpan full of pine needles. He hesitated, reaching in to pick up each bottle and shake them—both sounded full. Frowning in concern, he dumped the pine needles and headed back into the living room.

"Johnny?" he called quietly.

The room was empty. Frustration added to his concern, Bruce went in search of his friend. As he stepped into the front hall he could hear water running upstairs; he went in that direction. He stopped just inside Johnny's bedroom, running a critical eye over the room's contents. Amidst tangled sheets he saw a mushy icepack, long past thawed. He smelled the sharp mix of camphor and menthol and tracked the smell to an open jar of Tiger Balm on the bedside table. The water stopped running in the bathroom; Bruce shifted his gaze and waited.

Johnny came out of the bathroom with both hands pressed against his temples, a wince furrowing his brow.

"Were you going to tell me?" Bruce asked softly.

Johnny visibly jerked in surprise, his hands immediately leaving his head as he focused on Bruce. "What?"

Bruce waved his hand at the icepack and Tiger Balm. "You're hurting. I found your rejected options in the garbage; what are you taking?"

Snorting softly, Johnny tried to wave it off. "Nothing... just Advil and some leftover pills Dr. Jaeger gave me last year."

"John, you're not supposed to mix those," Bruce said with a frown. "How much are you taking? Never mind, too much I'm sure... Jesus. How long?" Johnny didn't look like he would answer. "How long, damn it?" Bruce demanded, taking a step forward.

"A few months. It's not nearly as bad as before, okay? Take it easy."

Bruce shook his head. "No way am I gonna let this go, man. What about blackouts, have you had those again?"

"No, of course not," Johnny snapped, anger flashing in his eyes. "I can take care of myself. I do know when things go too far."

"You always push yourself too hard, John," Bruce argued, swallowing his fear. "It's the visions again, right? They're wearing you down. It can't really be worth it—all this pain, all the suffering you see."

"What choice do I have?" Johnny asked, expression hard. "What the hell else do I do? There's no one else who sees what I see. Stillson has to be stopped, I have to get Miranda away from him, and I have to find out who Janus is. I can't do any of that without my visions!" He held his hands palm-up towards Bruce in supplication. "This is what I am, all I have!"

"Don't say that crap, you know damn well I'm here for you; so are Sarah and Walt... even Rebecca. You have great doctors who have been trying to accommodate you for years, doing their best to help you out. To the world you pretend that the visions are what builds your life, but we know that's not true."

"Oh, really?" Johnny asked tiredly. He sat down on the bed and pressed his hands against his forehead again.

"You know it, John," Bruce continued gently. "There's only so much you can do with your visions, and I know they're as much a burden as they are a gift. Look at how much you've done in the last few years. How many people have you saved? How many people have you helped? Do you realize how many friends you've made—if only you'd reach out to reconnect?" Bruce slowly lowered himself to sit beside Johnny.

"I can't risk losing sight of the future," Johnny said, his eyes closed.

Bruce wanted to touch his friend but was weary of the response he might get. He kept his hands to himself. "You can't live with this constant pain."

"Then help me find something that eases it!"

"What do you need?" Bruce asked quietly, watching Johnny's face carefully.

Johnny opened his eyes but didn't move his gaze from the floor. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Then this might take a while," Bruce said, forcing some amusement into his voice. "But if you're willing to work with me, we can do it. Right?"

Johnny sighed. "Maybe."

"You know it, man." Bruce smiled.

Johnny shook his head. Bruce raised a hand to rub his shoulder comfortingly.

------

"This was really a nice tree," Sarah remarked as she put away the last ornament.

Johnny worked on unwrapping the lights, causing a small shower of needles with every tug. "Bruce was a man possessed," he replied, a small smile on his lips.

Sarah watched him carefully, noticing the pinched muscles around Johnny's eyes indicating pain and exhaustion. He had been quiet lately—not necessarily meaning that he didn't talk, it was more like his focus was elsewhere, puzzling out something that was going on in a completely different room. The one day that Johnny seemed the most cognizant was Christmas Day when Bruce had hauled out the welcome mat and provided a feast for a relatively large group of Johnny's friends and close acquaintances.

There had been a time when she would have been able to figure him out and come up with a way to ease Johnny's pain. Now she knew that she needed to talk with Bruce to learn about what was going on and find out how she could help. Bruce was the Johnny expert now. He was also the best friend. She had wondered time to time if he also played the lover, but she sensed too much pent-up sexual tension for that to be the case.

"Walt and I were wondering if you might be up to looking after JJ for a weekend in February," she said after a long while.

Johnny shot her a curious look. "Of course." With a grin, he guessed, "Valentine's day?

Sarah's cheeks warmed. "Well, yes... We haven't really gone anywhere on our own for so long. Walt was looking online and found some bargain tickets to Boston. We'd really appreciate it, Johnny."

"It's not a problem," he told her. "I love hanging out with JJ. We'll find something entertaining while you're away on your romantic getaway." He smirked at her. "Working hard on getting that baby sister or brother, right?"

"Johnny!" Sarah gasped. "How did you—? Damnit. There's no keeping secrets from a psychic, is there."

Laughing, Johnny settled the cover on a box of Christmas lights. "Nope."

"Well I don't want to know anything," she said quickly. "Well, I guess if something... you know, might go wrong, let me know. But I still appreciate surprises! Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Johnny agreed, holding out his hand to shake on it.

As Sarah's hand slid into his, she could feel the jolt of a vision taking possession. It was unnerving to be locked by that vacant stare and trapped by the tight grip squeezing her fingers together painfully. She bit her lip to keep quiet and told herself to keep calm.

Johnny came out of it less than a minute later, the stress lines deepening around his eyes and mouth. He shook his head quickly and let go of her head. "Sarah," his voice held a tired warning, "you don't need to worry about me."

She offered a small smile. "I'm sorry, Johnny, but I think I do. I'm sticking around until Bruce comes back."

With a sigh, Johnny turned away to carry some of the boxes back to the garage for storage. Sarah watched as he walked out the door before following his lead.

------

"Hey, Sarah," Bruce greeted cautiously after parking his car in the drive. "Why are you sitting out here?" His gaze flicked to the door.

"Johnny's alright," she assured. Standing up from the cold concrete steps, Sarah adjusted her scarf before resuming her self-hug. "I just wanted to talk to you, and he figured it out early. He's not too happy about that."

"Was he always this stubbornly independent?" Bruce asked with some exasperation.

She cracked a smile. "Not really," she said. Bruce focused on her and she could see Johnny's exhaustion reflected in the man's face. "Just don't let it stop you."

"I don't."

"I know." Sarah walked down the steps to stand closer. "I want to know what's going on. Why is he in so much pain lately?"

Bruce shook his head grimly. "The headaches are back. I think every vision is piling on more pain. Nothing seems to be helping, either." Sarah shuddered, remembering the events of last summer that had led to Bruce's eerily calm voice on the phone telling her that Johnny was in the emergency room.

"Has he seen the doctor again?" she murmured.

A small, twisted version of a smile crossed Bruce's lips. "You think he would? No. I know just as well as he does what they'll say." His eyes became unfocused. Sarah watched in fascination as he lifted a shaking hand to adjust the knitted cap keeping his ears safe from Maine's winter winds. "He should be having the surgery. The pressure's only going to continue to grow."

Unsure if it was for his comfort or her own, Sarah unfolded her arms and rubbed her hands over Bruce's arms. "Shh... You—we'll take care of him. Figure something out. He's going to be okay. We won't let him down."

Bruce closed his eyes. "We can't afford to," he said in a thick voice.

Sarah took a shaky breath. "What can I do to lend a hand? I'll do anything. I'll get Walt's help if I have to. I'd even find out what happened to Dana if that'd do any good."

Bruce chuckled a little at the last. "That's really going the distance, don't you think?" Sarah smiled. "What should you do...?" He stared are her searchingly as if he could find the answers in her eyes. "Information," he decided. "Whatever we can get without attracting too much attention. We need to find out about Janus, what Stillson's current plans are... and if we can find anything, we might as well check in on Purdy." His expression was grim. Sarah nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'll get it," she promised.

Bruce held her hands for a moment before moving them from his shoulders. "Good girl," he murmured. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "You're something else, Sarah."

She stepped back so that he could open the door to the backseat of his car. He pulled out an obviously full duffle bag and slung the strap over his shoulder.

"You're staying here?" she asked. Bruce shot her a hesitant glance. She smiled reassuringly. "I won't have to worry so much. Thanks."

"It's nothing," he said, straightening up and preparing to head inside.

Sarah shook her head, still smiling. "You're wrong, it's a hell of a lot. Take care—both of you."

------

"You should really stop plotting behind my back," Johnny said as Bruce entered the kitchen.

"Spying from the window, now?" Bruce asked calmly as he set his bag down. Johnny shot him a look.

"I'll just find out about it later."

Bruce smiled slightly. "Sure thing, man. No secrets." He wandered over to the island and watched Johnny slicing and dicing a variety of vegetables on the cutting board. "What're you making?"

"A salad, what do you think?"

"God, you're bitchy when you aren't feeling good," Bruce complained, only half-teasing. "Something I can do to help?"

Johnny snorted and nodded at the duffle. "I'd hope so since you seem to be moving in without invitation. Find some pasta. I think there's still a jar of sauce somewhere in the cupboard."

Bruce did as he was directed. "You know, John," he said as he put a pot of water on the stove to boil, "I spend at least as much time here as I do at my own apartment, if not more so. I had the feeling I'd be here a lot more for at least a little while; is it so crazy to want to have clean clothes readily available?"

"What, are you asking to move in permanently?" Johnny asked incredulously; clearly his crankiness wasn't going anywhere soon.

"Actually..." Bruce smiled and then started to laugh. "Jeez, that would save me so much time. Even if I paid you rent it would probably be cheaper!"

Johnny set the knife down and turned to stare at Bruce. "It wasn't a serious suggestion."

Bruce sobered. "I know." He focused on the covered pot on the stove and stayed silent.

Hesitantly Johnny went back to his salad preparations, although his movements slowed as most of his attention focused on Bruce's presence and his reaction. There had been something sad and almost wistful in the way Bruce had looked at him before turning away. Johnny didn't want to put a finger on it, instinctively knowing it would be far too easy to identify the reason. He wasn't ready for that. He wasn't sure he ever could be ready.

They prepared dinner in silence and barely spoke during the meal. Bruce slipped away after washing the dishes to put his bag in the only maintained guest bedroom. The mansion was huge, far too big for one person to use on his own.

------

Johnny fought his way to consciousness despite the physical pain that accompanied his efforts; the nightmare was worse, he told himself. He groaned and rolled onto his side, curling tightly into a ball. He dug his fingers into his scalp, wishing he could tear away the barriers keeping him from getting to the pain and ripping it out. God, it hurt! His eyes felt too big for their sockets. His jaw ached. His sinuses pulsed with pain. He felt as if knives were stabbing through his ears and his neck had turned concrete.

Breathing hurt and the tears that began to fall scorched his cheeks. He moaned to himself and struggled to move, frantically trying all sorts of positions that might take the pain away—any little bit. Maybe if he could get his neck to move... or press his eyes back into place...

"...John... Oh, God. John..."

Warm hands closed on his shoulders and began to firmly message the taunt muscles locking his neck. Johnny sobbed in relief at the familiar pull and stayed still. He focused on breathing through the pain as those miraculous hands kneaded every point of sharp pain from his shoulders to his scalp.

"That's it, man... Come on, let's ease onto your back, okay?"

His eyes shut tight, Johnny let himself be rolled onto his back. Bruce's fingers stroked his tear-stained cheeks for a moment before setting to work on temples, jaw, and sinuses.

He had no idea how much time had actually passed. Johnny lay there at the mercy of his friend's skilled hands, too thankful to feel embarrassed by his complete vulnerability. In the long run, what did it matter? Bruce had seen him through his worst and best days. No matter what happened, Bruce continued to be there. He might protest and ask questions, but Bruce had never let him down. Johnny knew he continued to ask the impossible, and yet Bruce always pulled through.

"Don't tense up again," Bruce said soothingly, pressing firmly along the clenched muscles beneath the bend of Johnny's jaw. "After I clear a bit of this out I'm getting you some ice packs. You just need to chill a while." There was a smile in his voice.

Johnny returned the smile briefly and tried to open his eyes. The room was dimly lit, but it looked like the new day was dawning.

After Bruce settled Johnny with a couple of ice packs and a cool cloth over his eyes, the psychic felt Bruce lay out full-length by his side.

Blindly Johnny reached for the other's hand and clasped it tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, the dull echo of pain still resonating in his skull. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Don't worry about it, John," Bruce said, equally quietly. "You're not going to chase me off with a little bad attitude."

Johnny smiled slightly. "I guess not. How'd I get so lucky?"

He felt Bruce roll over and move closer. He breathed in deeply and could smell the last vestiges of sleep clinging to his friend.

When Bruce spoke, his warm breath flooded over the skin of Johnny's ear in sharp contrast to the ice packs cradling his neck and head. "You know what my daddy said when I had that vision? He set me straight on something. I used to think there wasn't at guiding light like they preach on Sundays. But he said I was wrong. We're not stumbling around in the dark. I... found my destiny, with you." His free hand came up to rest on Johnny's chest. "I'm here to protect you, John. I try my damnedest to do just that."

Speechless, Johnny stroked his thumb over the back of Bruce's fingers. After a while he turned his head, dislodging the washcloth over his eyes, and stared at Bruce—so close.

"I doubt I deserve you," he whispered, lifting a hand to brush Bruce's dark cheek.

"Don't let that stop you." Bruce's gaze didn't waver nor did he press.

Johnny swallowed the lump in his throat. "I really don't..." Whatever else he was going to say, he let it go, choosing instead to close the distance and wrap around Bruce's body. His lips moved hungrily over Bruce's and relief flooded him when he got a response. Bruce's hands settled on the small of his back and at his nape, pulling him close.

_Don't let go_. If his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, he would have said it.

Fin


End file.
